oh yeah …

I Like My Friends.

They’re Gangstah πŸ™‚


old peeps

An old friend got in contact with me the other week. We’ve had a couple of conversations via the telephone since then. It’s nice to catch up with old friends; finding out where they’ve been, whats been happening … and hopefully, vice versa.

Interestingly, old friends that I’ve come into contact again with, over the last couple of years, the reunion looks pretty similar with each one.

And I’m not sure what I was expecting but it sure as hell wasn’t the ensuing conversations … and it makes me wonder … what on earth did I put out into the universe, or to bring it in abit; this friendship … that makes them feel as if they can have an opinion on Me.

So, this last phone conversation went something like this:

… i was going to drop in for a quick visit; I contacted you but you didn’t reply.

Me … i was having a nap. Maybe next time. And most of the time my phones turned off … best way to get hold of me is messaging … I’ll get back to you when I get back to you.

… nap ay … nice for some.

Me … what is?

… being able to be so lazy … haha (nervous sarcastic) haha.

Me … No, not lazy … just recovering from a lifetime of traumatic incidents.

… haha, yeah whatever.

There was a little bit more to that conversation but the general gist was this:

I rang you … I expected you to pick up. … I texted you. … I expected you to reply. … and now that you have replied and all I find out is that you were having a nap instead of answering me, me, me; I’ll insult you by calling you lazy, so that next time I ring you’ll pick up the phone out of guilt.


Sorry, but No. I don’t swing that way … Β at … all.

And aside from the over tones of ‘lazy maori’ that were also ringing in my ears for the rest of that afternoon …

(a term utilised by the colonist to get maori (tangata whenua) to work for nothing … a term also used to make them feel inferior and perpetuate a stereotype that keeps them on the bottom level of the playing field … right next to the animals)

… I really did have to wonder … what mouse wheel has this lady been on since I saw her last?

Anyway … we have a ‘catchup’ date set for later in the month.

I might keep it.

I might not.

I’ll see how un-lazy I’m feeling.


for my friend: “karas migrating pickles” …

I have a blogging friend.

Her name is Kara.

She’s a bit stubborn.


She’s one hell of a machine too!

And she loves …



Yep. Thats right.




Now my friend has a few things ‘happening’.


And she could do with some pickles right now.


And I thought I might package some of our NZ pickles up and send her some.


However, due to the recent immigration ‘restrictions’, I wasn’t sure if those little beauties would actually make it over the border:
c011f3f7121e708fcbb71a79ef1de5b973c9d1c78bbe6c54f4c11365ea9729dfAnd it would seem the only pickles welcome are those in this sandwich!



Oh and in a McDs burger:


So my alternate solution was going to be to send Kara some nice pickle related paraphernalia … like theses:




But found that these would probably not make it over the boarder either … as they are ‘alt-solutions’ and these aren’t welcome … just ‘alt-facts’.

But not to be deterred!


It would seem blogging hasn’t been completely censored yet …

A – Hah, I thought … Why not ‘send’ Kara a beautiful little post, reminding her that she is deeply admired; that her ‘comments’ and virtual friendship are also deeply appreciated … and that if she doesn’t meet her ‘obligations’ … I shalt virtually kick her ass πŸ˜‰


So Kara, This last pickle Accolade is Just For You πŸ™‚





Please get better-er soon πŸ™‚

And for everyone else:

Check out the quick witt of Ms Kara @

Making the best of the sh*t I’ve got”

some peeps …

you hardly knew

but they were there

just there.

stable, or so it seems.

steadfast, or so it seems.

and then;

and then,

they move away

they get on with their lives

somewhere else

but the bond

if you can call it that,

is still there.

they’re family / friend.

and then,

and then they aren’t even

over there anymore.

whatta you sposed to do

with that?


365 reasons to smile ~ 97.

97. I thought this was funny; I thought the actual program was hilarious …  my friends didn’t think so though; on either count πŸ˜‰ oh well


thank you for de-following … seriously

I’ve read other peeps posts on ‘losing’ ‘followers’ … interesting I thought … but at that time I was sporting a whopping 12 ‘followers’ … the thought of that alone is amusing … the following thing … anywho, i digress….

My blogging has never really had anything to do with followers, or likes, or stats, or traffic, or polite topics, or striking headings … it has always been to do with ME, my insides, my venting, my reconciling, my story, my response, my ‘growth’ … me, me, me lol.

However, I have ‘met’ some extremely beautiful individuals in my romp round blog land. The faithfuls, that laugh at my lameness, take the piss out of then un-piss-take-able things that crop up, that encourage, defend, bow in honour of … the peeps that keep coming back to say hi … and true to real life, there are only a handful of them. And thats the way I like it. Blog land has been a bonus because of these peeps.

The content of my blog though, hasn’t changed over the past year … but my delivery has.

I don’t really watch the followers button, or the numbers … i remember looking and it was at 12 … then a few months later it was at 90 something … a few months ago i think it was at like 120 something. Yesterday though, that little notification thingy popped up again (which I also tend to ignore…) with a little title thingy … “you have 186 followers” … cool i thought as i clicked the ‘get off my screen, your disturbing my flow’ button.

So, it did come as a little bit of a surprise when i logged in today, taking note of the follower thingy, and that 186 followers thingy had diminished quite dramatically. Now its probably happened before and I haven’t noticed … but today i took note.

And I wonder … were the followers that de-followed just following for numbers? … or were the followers that de-followed actually uptight assholes and didn’t like my references to cunts and assholes?? Or, were the followers that de-followed in disguise christian types, trolling the web for new recruits, and they just figured out I couldn’t be recruited…in this life time or the next??? Or maybe, like I have done in the past, they hit the de-follow button when they meant to hit the one next to it … the awesome button!!!


Were these belly button lint sniffers, the ones that don’t like sexual assault as a topic … not to discuss, not to ponder, not to take the piss out of … not to reflect on, not the reality of it or the discussion of it …

If that is the case,,,,

“Good move on your part … and a lighter load for me …Β 

Thanks a bunch πŸ™‚ πŸ™‚

No, seriously … Thanks …. your exiting means the world to me :)”


365 reasons to smile ~ 34.

34. This little beauty, sent to me from a friend :). It’s too good not to share!

Jimmy Fallon, Sia, Natalie Portman and The Roots – Iko Iko.

dear “not so cold” friend

I learnt a long time ago that we all have hurdles in life…some are a little shittier than others…some are wrestled to the ground and stamped on pretty swiftly…some just seem to linger and take, like forever, to get a grip on. Whether it be physical, emotional, sexual, spiritual…we are all just roaming around trying to get a handle on our shit, one way or another.

During my very brief blogging experience, I have had the privilege of following and being followed (not in a stalker type way lol), some amazingly, deep, thoughtful, talented and extremely exquisite peeps. And I think my existence has definitely been enhanced, in the positive, by crossing paths with these peeps.

One such wonder, is Mr Not So Cold πŸ™‚


In response to a few questions he’s thrown out there…the following unfolds.

What was the first concert you went to see?

“My first ‘concert’ was a UB40 concert…I was 17, maybe 18Β I think…I had my daughter by then…I went with 2 old friends…and it rocked! I loved it…and I’d go again in a heartbeat (well after I’ve conquered the panic attack situation ;)). It’s on the new ‘to do’ list.”

What TV show are you embarrassed about watching?

“The only TV show I’m embarrassed about watching…but I don’t ever finish watching…Is a national soap opera thing…set in a hospital…bad acting…grrr…Shortland Street its called…I hate that thing. Embarrassed is possibly to nice a word for how I feel about that programme!”

What was your first car?

“My first car was a Vauxhall Viva…it was white…and a hunk of shit really. But I loved it! It was mine! I saved up my hard-earned dollars for it…went and paid cash for it, from this old dude that remodelled cars and sold them…and my first drive in it was…just bliss! That’s why I need to drive again…hmmm I might try to resurrect the Viva! Genius! :)”

Who was the first person who you cared more about their well-being than your own?

“The easy answer would be ‘everyone’. But I’ve learnt a lot over the years…about why peeps do what they do…how totally absorbed we can be in ourselves that we lose sight of the needs of those who are depending on us…that said though…The people that were my ‘dependables’, had issues…depression, suicide, more depression, addiction, low self-esteem, ptsd (undiagnosed) type issues. And those that should have been looking out for my interests, preyed on my vulnerability. I can count on 2 fingers…maybe…those who cared enough about me to ‘notice’ me. But even then…they were clouded in some way. That doesn’t really answer the question…but its a hard question. In short…it was everyone.”

* ok…edit! After re reading the question properly lol a very annoying habit of mine…skim reading…has got me again! But after such a heart felt deep and meaningful answer, how could I delete it 😊 … ah well. So to answer after reading the question properly. ..that’s easy…My daughter 😊 i had her when I had just turned 16…she changed my view on absolutely everything and became the reason I existed and wanted better…for her.

Who is someone from your past that you are sorry you lost track of?

“My friend who died of breast cancer…her family. But I recently found her daughter again…so that relationship has been rekindled…and I’m very grateful :)”

What was your first paying job?

“Besides babysitting…which I detested really…it was in a fruit and vegetable shop :)”

What is your best childhood memory?

“Going to work with my Grandad…concrete and nails and hammers and wood and music on the radio and tea out of a thermos and super wine biscuits and buildings and stair cases and songs and breakfast bacon and tomatoes and…my Grandad xx”

If you had a chance for a β€œdo-over” in life, what would you do differently?

“Hmmmm, I use to think I would do virtually everything differently, but if I do that, then I wouldn’t be here…but if I had to…I wish I would’ve punched ‘Wendy’ (childhood nemesis!) out instead of putting up with her bullshit πŸ˜‰ she was such a troll lol”

What do you feel most proud of?

“Easy peasy one…My daughters! They are sublimely amazing! I am astounded nearly everyday that I produced 2 stunningly amazing individuals! I love them and all their flaws and talents and misgivings and uncertainities…they’re truly amazing human beings…the kind that will change lives…change the world ;)”

What are your top three favorite books and why?

“These are books, but I prefer the movies:

Red Dragon

Silence of the Lambs


It’s what I love and am fascinated with…the criminal mind”

What is your strongest personal quality

“Hmmmm….I’m not sure…possibly my low tolerance for bullshit…I’m not to sure of the technical term for that…but its a skill…and a quality…one that’s generally taken the wrong way…but a quality non the less ;)”

So there you have it…just a few little things about Me…before, during and after Me and PTSD πŸ™‚

Love and light and lots of good food and music…to you, from Me

in amongst the shit that was today

In amongst it all, there was aΒ gem.Β It doesn’t seem so bright at the moment…but I’m hoping clarity will come as I sleep…whew

I found the daughter of a dear friend today. I found her onΒ  Facebook. Yep, Facebook’s good for something.

Her mother was a good friend of mine when I was a whole lot of years younger…before I had my girl. And after. And when my girl was born, I named her after this beautiful lady.

She had 5 children. And her life was one blow on another…well that’s how I remember it. But she would smile…I hope it wasn’t a fake smile…pretty sure it wasn’t. But I wanted happiness and fulfilment for her. And her babies.

I’d never forgotten how precious a soul she really was. That she not only smiled when it hurt…and she was self-conscious of her smile…but she threw open her doors to those that were hurt and helpless and needing and wanting and trying and turning and running and crying and…and

She was there.

Until she wasn’t.

And when she died, I wasn’t there. And I lost touch with her family. And I had always wondered how they were.

And I found her daughter today. And she is just as beautiful as her mother. And I told her what I felt like…and she politely relieved my guilt…very kind. And she gave me understanding of how my friend had died. That she hadn’t wanted anyone there…she didn’t want her fragile friends to hurt.


And that was her. Thinking and loving those her loved her…more than we loved her.

But I found her girl…and heard about the boys…and I’ll keep in touch with them now…


changing tides…1999

As I’ve said, these years are a bit of a blurr…and the order of them is a bit shit. But continuing with my drinking career and then trying to study at University in 1998, by the time 1999 rolled around, it was all starting to wear off…and I was getting tired of it.

I hadn’t thought I would…as in, I loved drinking. My diet consisted of pies, coffee and alcohol. Mainly beer and bourbon…but I wasn’t fussy. My Grandfather made a mean home-brew and I’d drink that with a handful of pills…it was always enough to send me on my way. When I was drunk I felt happy…and me and happy hadn’t really resided in the same place for any length of time. I understood that it was a ‘false’ happiness, but I didn’t really care…it was happiness and I wanted to soak it up for as long as possible.

And how I drank…was enjoyable…most of the time. It had its glitches…but there was a huge sense of community and belonging that I hadn’t felt anywhere else. Even with the critters. We’d sing and drink and sing some more…and dance. It’s a shame that we didn’t know how to do that any other way.

This part of it all…I don’t regret. It taught me something about the fabric of my humanity, my culture…that I wouldn’t have learnt any other place. I don’t mean the ‘Once Were Warriors’ steez, I mean…

In the Maori language its called whanaungatanga, or manaakitanga. It’s hospitality and welcoming, but more than that. It’s a feeling of family and love and warmth and belonging and being alright and comfort…that’s really hard to describe…you can feel it in your belly…your heart. And I hadn’t felt that anywhere else before. I loved it.

But the other thing with drinking that amount is you forget…lots of stuff. One day blurs into another…one month turns into a year and before you know it your turning 27..ish, I think πŸ˜‰

And when I’m over something…I’m over it.

I started extracting myself from my ‘drinking friends’ and cutting down on the amount I went out…at first from 6 nights to 4. And it was bloody hard. Being sober is…well its boring. It’s noisy.

But I tried to keep up my normal things…turns there was too many of those. All my time had been taken up with drinking.

This was probably the first time I really recognized that I was anxious. I didn’t like people…well being around them. Being drunk was one thing…being sober…not cool.

To my surprise…NOT…my ‘friends’ started dropping away. They didn’t come round to hang out if they knew there was no piss involved. Drop kicks. But that was to be expected I guess. Those that I had a genuine connection with, they remained. When I say they… I mean 3 of them lol.

I had pissed quite of few peeps off over the last few years and I felt this nagging thing, to try to make amends, where I could anyway. Didn’t go so well…think I ended up with a few hidings…but oh well.

I was also doing part-time work for a government Child Services about this time. I’d do pick ups and drop offs…and babysitting duties…they called it escorting and minding. I watched this girl who was looking to top herself whenever she had the chance…well that’s what that file said. She was just angry. We had a good rapport πŸ™‚

So anyways, as I was extracting myself from the life I’d come to know, something else started to happen. I noticed large chunks of my hair falling out.